About this Piece

This Concerto Grosso is organized in three parts, played without pause. The four soloists comprise an odd quartet: flute, trombone, percussion, and cello. I wanted to explore the different dynamics of this unexpected partnership, giving each player a chance to play athletically and lyrically on their own, as well as in conversation with their colleagues. I like the idea of complicated teamwork with unexpected alliances occasionally disrupted into little squabbles and reconciliations. 

The first movement, “Parallel Play,” sees the four soloists playing very different material at the same time, occasionally lining up in furious, almost coerced, unison. Occasionally two of them will pair up to play a little canon, and then split up again. The orchestra antagonizes and interrupts them. Midway through, the texture begins to shift quite often: First, the quartet plays long lines at various speeds; from this, a very high, delicate, bell-heavy dance emerges; from this, a lower, slightly slower version of the same material, followed by a recapitulation of the original violent unisons.  

These outbursts are interrupted by a very slow cycle of hymn-like chords that govern the harmonic language of the second movement, “For Small Ensemble.” I wanted this to function like four simultaneous versions of a traditional slow movement of a concerto: long, lyrical solos from the flute, then adding cello, then a vibraphone played with a bow, then all four soloists at once. 

The third movement, “Side by Each,” comprises four cadenzas. They are not unaccompanied, as would be traditional, but re-link the soloists with their colleagues in the orchestra, creating a homophonic texture. First, the solo flute (accompanied by two flutes, harp, and celesta) plays an acrobatic, hyper passage. The trombone (accompanied by the brass section, with the orchestral trombone taking a co-equal role) plays a slow chorale. The cello, first accompanied by the first four cellists in the orchestra and then other strings, plays music that grows ever more ecstatic, giving way to an orchestral interlude that in turn ushers in the solo percussionist—playing tuned bowls and flowerpots—accompanied by tuned percussion in the orchestra, harp, and piano. The piece ends in a state of suspended animation: The orchestra seems frozen, immovable, and severe. The four soloists play in perfect unison, forcing the piece to an enigmatic last few gestures. —Nico Muhly